Things Change
by shes cured
Summary: P. Sawyer has hated Brooke ever since they were kids. Will they eventually learn to tolerate each other? B/P fanfic
1. Chapter 1

**Sixth Grade**

When Peyton Sawyer sat down next to her that day in the park, she was amused yet felt the boiling discontent in her stomach. Most days, thinking back she can still feel the absolute hatred she had for the girl sitting on the swing over. They were just kids, but the feelings were still there. Brooke and Peyton were enemies at best.

There was nothing similar about them other than the fact that they were both in sixth grade and twelve years old. Brooke Davis was a shy girl. She sat quiet and alone in the corners of all of her classes. She remained in the background and tried to avoid getting teased. Peyton Sawyer was the opposite. She was popular and friendly and could get along with anyone. She chose whether or not she wanted to be your friend, not the other way around.

Brooke rolls her eyes when the blonde-haired girl sits beside her. "What do you want?"

"Excuse me?" Peyton laughs a little. She finds this fun. It's kind of like a game. She's always liked to keep things fresh. "_Maybe _I wanted to be friends."

She shakes her head, getting off the swing.

"That's right," Peyton began to speak again. "Why would anyone wanna be friends with a piece of shit like Brooke Davis?"

She thinks she's cool because she swears. Everyone suddenly moved up to middle school and there's a new dictionary too.

"You're just mad because I'm the best on the squad and we all know it. I can land every move-"

"Actually, your handspring is a little rusty."

For a moment, Brooke is about to cry, but she pulls herself together and wills herself not to. That's what they want to see and she won't be the source of Peyton or her friends entertainment. "I'm _good _and you know it_._"

Peyton quickly comes and pushes her down as the other girls laugh.

"Go, Peyton!"

She tries to get up but the taller, skinnier, prettier girl starts kicking woodchips and she closes her eyes. She's afraid to yell at her to stop because woodchips most likely wouldn't taste too good. She doesn't open her eyes because that would hurt quite a bit too.

"_That's_ what Brooke is. A fat, ugly, _shitty_, piece of filth," Peyton taunts. "Don't mess with me, Davis."

She stops after that. When the girl laying on the floor finally opens her eyes, Peyon is swinging with her other friends now and they're all laughing at her. She can't stop the comment that crawls out of her throat. "All of you are whores. And no one likes you. And-"

"She better run," Peyton tells her friends.

They hop off the swing while it's midair and Brooke fully comprehends what she just said. She turns around, running back down the street towards her safe house. There are footsteps chasing her as they began to tease her too.

"We'll catch up! She's too fat to run!"

"And uncoordinated. She'll trip!"

"Broooookie," Peyton, the ringleader chants. Then somehow she quickly caught up with her chicken legs and tackled the shorter girl onto the sidewalk.

Brooke winces and she laughs, punching her dead in the eye. She gets up and starts kicking the smaller one too as she lays there defenseless. She finds herself not caring anymore. Go ahead, Peyton. Have at it. If that's what makes you happy.

When Peyton finishes she squats down and smirks at her. "Watch your back, Brooke Davis."

She doesn't get up until they turn the corner and are officially gone. Only then does she walk the four houses down into the house and softly shuts the door. Her mom looks up from the kitchen table and cringes. "Oh, God, go clean yourself up."

She sees why when she gets to the bathroom. There is a very big red mark right under her eye that's sure to bruise. Her lip is cut and her self-esteem shattered. One day, she would find real friends and this wouldn't happen to her. That's what she thinks every night as she falls asleep. It's what keeps her sane.

Today, unfortunately, just wasn't that day.

:::

The next time she sees Peyton Sawyer is at Haley Scott's birthday party. Haley and Brooke had never really spoken to before, but she's kind. The few times they did make small talk, Haley always smiled and didn't call her any names, which for Brooke was really all she ever asked for.

At first, she stands in the background, lingering. She has a present for Haley but doesn't know how to talk to people. Truth be told, this is her first birthday party. Normally, she was just reminded how she's _not _invited.

"Brooke!" Haley sees her. "Come on! We're going swimming!"

Brooke smiles but it's cut short by the voice she had learned to associate with pain over the years. Peyton Sawyer was here too.

"You invited _Brooke_?" she says.

"Yeah," Haley's voice is confident. "She's nice."

"She's a loser," Peyton clarifies. Everyone snickers at the word.

"I'll go," she says softly.

Haley turns and has really caring eyes. That's the first thing Brooke sees in Haley. She's really compassionate. "No, stay. I'm sure Peyton will be nice. Right, Peyton?"

"Sure," she smiles innocently. "Come on, Brookie."

She stares at her luring face for awhile before turning back to Haley and smiling apologetically. "I'd better go, Haley. My brother is sick anyway."

"Brooke, you don't have to-"

"I do," she says. "See you at school, Haley. Happy birthday."

"Bye, Brooke Davis!" Peyton chants.

Somehow, she finds it in her to turn around and smile. "See you, Peyton."

She walks around the house to the front and begins going down the sidewalk. She told her mom that she'd find a ride home, but she figured that she wouldn't. Brooke isn't upset about the fact that she has to walk home. She's upset because she thought she'd stay a little longer at the party. She really thought that she was going to make friends today. But no, instead she's going home early, making up a lie about a brother she didn't even have.

Halfway home she stops at a bus stop and sits down for awhile. She takes out her cell phone and wants to cry. She might have a cell phone, and money, and everything a twelve year old could possibly want, but it didn't mean much without friends.

"Brooke?" She looks up. Mr. Sawyer is standing there with a smile on his face.

He didn't know about the feud. No adults did. Brooke didn't have anyone to tell. Besides, she knows Peyton and her dad are close. He comes to every cheer competition and roots for them and sometimes brings snacks for after. Peyton finds it really embarrassing, but Brooke always find it sweet. She would never tell her father about the monstrous side of her.

"No thanks, I'm good."

Peyton is glaring at her from the passenger seat. She scares her. Brooke hated admitting it, but there's something about the way she could destroy a person that's terrifying.

"Brooke, I know you don't have a ride home. Why don't you get in?"

There's not much a fight in her anymore. She nods her head silently and hops in. Peyton can't do anything with her dad in the car and a five minute car ride would be another forty-five minute walk.

"How have you been, Brooke?" Mr. Sawyer asks. "Peyton tells me you two have a lot of classes together."

"Yeah," she says quietly.

"Brooke doesn't talk much," Peyton tells her dad. "She's always been on the quiet side."

"Oh, nonsense!" he laughs. "She's a cheerleader!"

It's silent in the car for awhile before her dad pulls into the gas station. Brooke's heart begins pounding. Is he really going to leave them alone in the car?

"What are you doing?" Peyton asks.

"I need gas," he shrugs. "You want twizzlers?"

"Yeah!" A bright smile comes to her face. Peyton without a sneer is a rare sight to see.

"Brooke, do you want any candy?"

"No thank you," she says politely.

Her dad gets out of the car and walks into the gas station and the silence really hits in. Peyton taps away on her phone, texting the friends that Brooke has always wanted. Eventually she turns.

"You didn't have to leave Haley's."

"You didn't want me there."

"I was just giving you a hard time," she defends.

Brooke looks up at her skeptically as they meet eyes. "It didn't seem like _just _a hard time."

"Why were you walking home?"

"My mom doesn't like me getting her way," she says.

Peyton nods, but has a hard time feeling sorry for the girl. "Better than me. My mom is dead."

Brooke rolls her eyes. "Sucks."

"You don't seem very sympathetic," she notes. There's something about Brooke. Something that Peyton can't quite figure out. She has this spark in her, though. A spark she enjoys messing with.

"Your mom dying doesn't change that you're a-" she cuts herself off. "Nevermind."

"No, go on," Peyton crawls into the backseat and Brooke scoots closer to the window. "I'm a what?"

"Forget it."

"What, are you scared?" she taunts.

"Why wouldn't I be scared of you? All you've ever done is hurt me."

Peyton looks down. "I didn't mean to," she promises. "Just say it. I won't hurt you."

"There are so many things that I have to say, but can't because you'd probably beat me up," Brooke mutters quietly. A part of her expects a punch in the face just for the comment.

"I'm sorry you think I'll hurt you," she says solemnly. Just then her dad comes back with a pack of twizzlers and smiles, tossing them in the back seat. Peyton hands one to you and you shake your head. When the door shuts and he leaves again to put the gas in the car she turns to Brooke once more.

"Look, it's not that I don't like you-"

"I don't care, Peyton," Brooke cuts her off. "It doesn't change that you make life hell."

She looks out the window and Peyton grabs her phone. She starts pressing buttons then hands it back. "Text me sometime. Maybe you're not as absolutely terrible as I thought."

"I know I'm not. But you're below my standards," she shoots back.

"First of all, you don't know me. Second of all, you _don't _know me," she finishes just as her dad gets in the car for good and starts it again.

"Ready to go, girls?" he smiles at them both. "Let's get you home, Brooke. I bet your mom is worried sick."

She wants to laugh. Her mom doesn't realize she's missing. Or if she does, she likes it better that way anyway. Instead she forces out a smile with a perky voice.

"Yeah, I should probably get home."

:::

"Alright, good job, ladies! See you Thursday for practice!" Coach Ashley yells.

The group of girls begins to break up and head towards the locker rooms.

"Brooke, hold on a minute!" Coach calls her over.

Brooke closes her eyes and sighs, turning around again. She walks against the crowd and momentarily makes eye contact with Peyton. It's amazing how different she is. In the car that day, Brooke almost thought there was hope for her. But nothing changed. She was the same bitch she's always been.

She reaches her coach and puts on her brilliant Brooke Davis smile that makes everyone think she's okay. "Yeah, coach?"

"Hey," she smiles. "Becca told me you're thinking about quitting after season's over."

"Oh," Brooke's heart jumps at the thought of freedom. "Yeah, I was considering it."

"I hope you don't," she says simply. "You're really good, Brooke, and once you hit high school you're gonna be great. You have a lot of talent and I'd hate to see that go."

Normally she doesn't take compliments well, but she feels the corners of her lips start to perk up a little. "Thanks. Maybe I'll reconsider."

Her mind was already made up, but the compliment meant a lot.

"I hope you do," she pats her on the shoulder. "I'd hate to think Tree Hill is gonna miss out on someone like Brooke Davis just because she quits."

Maybe. But they'd still have Peyton Sawyer.

"Go ahead. I wouldn't want to make your mom wait."

The girl nods and starts walking back to the locker room. She pretends not to see her, but she notices Peyton lurking in the shadows against the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches her walk over until they're finally walking the same path back to the locker room.

"You're gonna quit?" she asks.

They walk in and everyone else is leaving or has already left. It's just the two of them and Peyton sits down, undoing her shoelaces. Brooke still hasn't answered her question, but she doesn't have to.

"Don't," Peyton's answer is simple. At that, the brunette looks up. She isn't expecting that. Peyton's plea came as a surprise. She figured that Peyton of all people would be the happiest to learn they would no longer be teammates. "Look, I know I give you a hard time a lot, but in all honesty, you are the best we've got, okay? And quote me on that and I'll say you're lying, but it's true. If you quit, there's no point in staying on the team because it's gonna suck."

At that one, Brooke smiles a little bit. Peyton quickly puts on her sweats and t-shirt before waiting patiently for the other girl to change too.

"You're the best flyer and the best at tumbling. You've worked hard for this. You can't just give up," she keeps going.

Brooke looks up as she finishes changing and shrugs. "It's not fun anymore."

"Because of me?" Peyton asks. She still hasn't said sorry, but she always thinks it. Every practice she wants to go up and apologize, but at the same time, she created a great reputation for herself by making fun of Brooke. What if she loses her friends?

She shrugs a little bit. "Yeah. A little bit."

"I'm an idiot!" Peyton throws her hand up as they begin to walk out. Their coach raises her eyebrows as they trail out. Sawyer and Davis were dangerous together. She'd learned that over the years.

"Look, I don't even know yet, okay?" Brooke asks with a hint of annoyance.

They walk outside and Peyton goes to her dad's car as Brooke carefully opens her cell phone and pretends to dial her mom's number.

"You have a ride, right?" Peyton asks.

"We have practice every night. Of course I do."

"Just being nice for once," she winks. She's about to open the door then stops and turns around looking back once more. "I really will miss you if you quit, B. Davis."

With that, she gets into the car and after a few seconds drives away. Brooke finds herself smiling a little. B. Davis is a new one. It was a sort of playfully harsh name. She likes it. She glances at the car until it turns the corner then begins walking in the other direction towards "home".

* * *

i hope you like this. i'm trying out the one tree hill fanfic for a change. i have most of this already written, so if you like it please review! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Seventh Grade**

"Hey," Peyton comes up smiling after practice.

"Hi, P. Sawyer," Brooke says. "Hold on, I'm almost ready to go."

They aren't friends, but they're at a better place than they were a year ago. Peyton became civil and with her change came all of her friends; too. Brooke isn't popular or invited to all the parties, but she isn't pushed down on the playground either.

"Take your time," she leans back on some lockers. "You should know by now, no rush."

Peyton saw her walking home from practice one day and ever since insisted that Brooke go home with her. It's on their way, she had pointed out. It took a few days of convincing, but eventually the most stubborn girl alive gave in.

"I know, but I feel bad," Brooke shrugs.

With the car rides home, Brooke started to warm up. Sometimes Peyton can even lure an entire paragraph out of her. It's rare, but it happens every now and then. Brooke stands up and gives Peyton the famous smile. "Ready?"

"Waiting on _you_," she reminds her.

They laugh together and walk out to the car. It started out that Peyton always sat in the front while Brooke sat in the back, but as months went on and they each became more bearable to each other, they eventually were both sitting in the back. They would gossip and laugh and Peyton's dad would always smile.

"So, I guess it's time to head home," her dad says.

Peyton laughs. "We all know it's Ice-Cream Friday, Dad."

"That's right, it is," he grins, pulling into Karen's Cafe.

The three of them get out and walk in. Brooke looks around while they're in line as Peyton fills her dad on in the day's drama. The blonde haired kid is here again. He goes to their school, but he doesn't talk much. Then again, Brooke can't judge. There's a high school couple seated at a table and Brooke looks away. Her heart drops when she sees Mandy and Dana a few tables away.

"Peyton," she whispers.

The blonde girl turns and Brooke silently apologizes with her eyes. "Your friends are here."

She looks over and her eyes fall a little bit at the sight of people talking about her for a change.

"I can leave-"

She pulls on Brooke's shoulder, keeping her there. "Stay. It's Ice-Cream Friday, Brooke."

"Yeah, but it's about to be Brooke-Goes-Home-Crying Friday if I stay," she murmurs quietly.

"What do you girls want?"

"Chocolate cone," Peyton asks. She turns to the next girl and whispers it quietly so her dad can't hear. "Stay, Brooke. Please. I promise."

They both weren't quite sure what she was promising, but it was enough.

"Can I please have a vanilla cone?"

Peyton smiles at her and glances at Mandy and Dana again. She wraps her fingers around Brooke's wrist and begins walking over.

Brooke's eyes widen. "What are you doing?"

"Talking to them-"

"Are you retarded? They hate me!"

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic," Peyton waves her off.

Brooke laughs a little, holding up a hand. "No, no, no. _You _stop being so naïve. Are you forgetting that I'm the most unliked girl in our entire grade? Thanks to _you_."

Peyton laughs a little bit as Brooke frowns. "Stop it!"

"I'm sorry," she's cracking up. "It's just that, I've never seen you actually stand up for yourself in awhile."

"Well, you're being mean!"

"No, now let's go," she declares.

She grabs the girl's wrist again and starts walking over. She's expecting a fight or protest or something, but shockingly Brooke walks along with her. Given, she's muttering profanities under her breath, but she's still there.

"Hey, guys," Peyton puts on the bubbly smile. It's the smile that Brooke, over the past few weeks, had realized is fake. She has this dark side to her. It's kind of interesting. She doesn't know why she doesn't let anyone else see that.

"Hey, Peyton," Dana smiles.

Mandy's nose crinkles. "What's with the Brooke?"

"What do you mean?" Peytons eyebrows shoot up. She doesn't exactly understand what that comment is supposed to suggest.

The brunette, on the other hand, feels her heart start pounding. She can tell Peyton _exactly _what Mandy means by that.

"You two are friends now? I thought she was a loser and we just decided she wasn't worth our time anymore."

Brooke tries to pull away. She doesn't want to be there to hear what Peyton is going to say next. She isn't in the mood for excuses or anything. The blonde tightened her grip though. She looks back at her friend and smiles. "You're wrong. She's pretty cool."

"Yeah, I don't get why you always hated her," Dana backs Peyton up.

Mandy just laughs. "I don't get you, but whatever. Brooke seems nice enough."

Peyton smiles back at you.

"So, you guys are like, friends?"

"No, not like. We _are _friends," she says. She looks back at her dad who's patiently waiting for her to get done. "We'd better go. See you Monday."

"See ya, Peyton."

"Bye, Peyton. Bye, Brooke."

She waves for both of them then leads Brooke back to her dad. He gives them each the appropriate cone and smiles. "Why don't we eat this on the way home?"

"Fine with me. You Brooke?"

"Sounds great," she smiles.

Sitting in her room an hour later, she's still alone on a Friday night, but she doesn't feel it. The most popular girl in the entire school had just stood up for her. She was just Brooke Davis, but Peyton called her a _friend. _She thinks about it for a long time, then finally decides to text the phone number she'd gotten a long time ago but never quite used.

_Thanks, P. Sawyer._

It's nothing special. Truth be told, Brooke still has a smidge of hostility towards the little-bit-too-skinny, way-too-blonde-haired girl, but she's getting over it. Peyton really isn't that bad underneath all that bitch. And it is nice the way they had a special nickname for each other, even if it was fairly simple. She makes Brooke feel worthy and wanted, something that used to be foreign to her.

_Anytime, B. Davis. You're pretty cool. See you Monday. :)_

In Tree Hill a few blocks down, Peyton smiles at the text she got. She thinks back and tries to remember why she ever hated Brooke so much anyway. She can't find a reason, but wishes she did. She wasted a lot of years hating her. Now it's time to waste a lot more proving herself.

:::

"Let's go, Davis. God, do you take a long time to change," Peyton puts her bag on her shoulder.

Brooke looks up with amused eyes. "Yes, and you _love _it."

"No, I do not!" she counters. "Not when it makes me twenty minutes later getting home."

"I can walk."

"I can wait twenty minutes."

"That's what I thought," Brooke says haughtily. "And it is _not _twenty. You're lucky if it's five."

She stands up and they start walking out together. They're laughing and smiling and their coach can't help but notice the difference in each of them.

"Bye, girls," she says.

"See ya, Ashley."

"Bye, Coach," they each wave.

Peyton stops before they get in the car and turns to Brooke. "So, I sort of already asked my dad and he said it's okay. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to sleepover?"

"A sleepover with Peyton Sawyer?" Brooke clicks her tongue. "I must be getting popular now."

"Taking that as a yes," she cries, opening the door.

Brooke laughs, following her in as they sit in their normal seats.

"Am I stopping at Brooke's house tonight?" her dad asks first thing.

"Nope. She can sleep over."

"Does she need any clothes?" her dad asks.

Peyton shrugs. "You can just borrow mine if you want?"

"Fine with me," she smiles.

She's excited to see Peyton's house. Seeing someone's room for the first time always feels sacred, but Peyton's feels especially sacred. She's so intriguing. The sides she shows in front of Brooke are always so much different than at school.

They get to her house and Brooke looks up at it. Peyton gets out and Brooke follows her lead again all the way up to her room.

"Woah," she says.

"Kinda morbid, I know. My dad tells me all the time."

Brooke shrugs. "It's so... interesting. Definitely you."

"So now I'm morbid?" Peyton tries to challenge her. She puts a hand on her hips and gives Brooke that look.

Her friend raises her eyebrows and laughs it off – something she never would have done a year ago or even a few months ago. "P. Sawyer, you're the most morbid person I know."

"The title I've always wanted," Peyton says sarcastically as Brooke roams around her room.

Her eye catches the bookshelf and she looks back. "You own records?"

"Yeah. I'm one of those music nerds," she shrugs. She wouldn't confess that to anyone else – most of her other friends think those records are her father's and she keeps them because it's the only open space – but something about Brooke makes her feel comfortable. Like she can be herself.

She moves on and looks on the desk. "You draw?"

"Sometimes. Just kinda fool around," she shrugs.

"So, let's see," Brooke looks up, sitting on the bed. "Music nerd, depressed artist, and scrawny chicken legs, and _I'm _the one who got made fun of?"

Peyton laughs and sits next to her. "Gotta know how to fake it, B. Davis."

"I'm keepin' it real," she winks.

"Hey, don't you need to call your mom? Let her know where you are?"

"Oh, she's not worried," the brunette rolls her eyes. "The more I'm out of her hair the better."

Blondie nods, slowly, trying to decide what she'd rather. Her case, a mom who died, or Brooke's, a mom who just didn't want to stay.

"You don't talk about your parents much," Peyton comments.

"Nothing to say," she smiles. "My dad is usually on some sort of business trip and my mom tries to forget she has a daughter as much as possible."

"Must suck, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she sighs. "At least I found a friend to waste my time with now."

"And it's the most popular girl in school," Peyton flips her hair behind her shoulder. "Why you holding back, B?"

She turns her head to look at the girl across from her. "Huh?"

"You never wanna talk about your family," she notes. "How come?"

"My story isn't nearly as terrible as yours. I don't like dwelling on it."

Chicken legs sits up straight and looks at her new, soon to become best friend right in the eye. "Just because your story isn't the saddest doesn't mean it's any less important."

"Maybe," Brooke nods. She breaks eye contact and her friend learned that usually means she's about to swallow her pride. "I'm sorry for being so mean when you first told me about your mom. It is sad, and you of all people don't deserve to grow up without a mom."

"Neither do you," she replies. Then, it's her turn to look down. "Besides, it's not you who should be apologizing."

That's the closest Peyton had ever come in her life to saying "I'm sorry".


	3. Chapter 3

**Eighth Grade**

"Okay, so, here's what we're gonna do," Brooke's best friend bursts in her room. "This is your year, Brooke Davis. And we're gonna skank you up a bit. Make _you _popular for a change."

"Actually, after all these years, that back corner seems pretty nice-"

"Nice try," she smiles. "But I just got up an hour early to come over here and fix your ass up. So, wakey wakey."

"But, Peyt-"

"Careful. If I make too much noise I'll wake up your bitch of a mom and _she'll _get you up," Peyton laughs. She isn't sure why, but just this once she's determined to do this for Brooke. Her best friend is a great person, but sometimes people judge her too quickly.

"Fine," Brooke shifts in her bed before fully sitting up. "Fine, I'm up. I am up forty-five minutes earlier than I would be just for you."

"Here," she throws clothes at her. "Try this on."

"Whatever you say, Goldilocks," she groans, trudging into the bathroom. "You know, this is a real pain in the ass."

"You'll thank me," she says knowingly. "Besides, I'm the one that walked all the way here."

"The whole two blocks!"

Peyton laughs and does an over-dramatic jaw drop that Brooke has tried to imitate a dozen times but always looks stupid. "Brooke Penelope Davis, you look hot!"

"Shut up," she rolls her eyes. "So does this mean you're actually gonna talk to me this year?"

She starts brushing through Brooke's hair and meets her eyes in the mirror. "I'm stupid, okay?"

"I guess that's as close as I'll get to a yes," she shrugs.

"Hey, in my defense, we didn't _really _start talking until the end of last year."

Brooke laughs, "God, how'd I end up as you for my best option? I'm moving down in the world."

"This summer was fun," Peyton protests. "You know it was!"

"Oh, I can't fight. I actually played with other people!"

"We didn't play, Brooke. Let's axe that word so you actually fit in, hm?"

"What's so great about fitting in?"

"I'm not totally sure, but you told me one day that you've wanted to be popular since you were six, so I'm granting your wish. You're welcome."

Brooke frowns. "And this involves me changing how I talk and look?"

A smile breaks out on the blonde girls face. "No, but I really wanted to see what you looked like all dressed up."

"Oh, fuck you!" she laughs. "But, seriously, you need to start being yourself too. I mean, you're definitely not a perky cheerleader like you pretend to be."

Peyton shrugs. "It keeps people happy."

"But still. I don't like that you're always playing someone elses role."

"Well, you're naturally perky and I'm apparently the most morbid person you know, so how about it? We'll both change this year."

"Best thing you've said all morning," Brooke grins.

Peyton smiles. "Ready?"

"Ready," she repeats.

They go downstairs and Brooke gets out a bowl of cereal, grabbing one for her friend too. She gets out the Cheerio's for herself and grabs Coco Puffs for Peyton. She hands her the box. "For you and your five-year-old taste buds."

"You can never have too much chocolate," she grins, pouring it in the bowl. Over summer with Peyton sleeping over more nights than not, the Davis household had learned to always carry ice-cream, oreo's, and Coco Puffs.

"So, you really think I can make friends? This has never happened before, you know?"

"You're too pretty not to," she nods. "Besides, I sorta know this blonde girl. She kinda has the school wrapped around her finger."

"Sweet, let me meet her. I'm sure she's _way _cooler than my best friend."

Peyton laughs. It's so weird how a few months can change everything. If anyone told her before summer that her and Brooke would bond so much that they'd be inseparable after she would have never believed them. She loved the girl to death, but they always seemed so different.

"Let's hear it, P. Sawyer," Brooke starts on their walk to school. They vowed this year to walk every single day together. They'd meet at the halfway point between their houses then walk to school, learn some unimportant stuff, then walk back. Peyton turns to Brooke amused. "Who's this year's prey?"

"Nathan Scott is kinda cute. That whole bad-boy thing? I think it works for him."

"If anyone can get him it's you," she grins.

"A lot is gonna change for you," Peyton promises. "Everyone will know your name soon. I promise."

"You don't have to do this."

"I want my best friend by my side," she grins. "But, if it makes you feel better I guess we can pretend I'm doing this for you."

"One more year til high school," Brooke smiles excited. "Just one more year, Chicken Legs."

"That nickname has really gotta go!" Peyton says automatically.

Her friend shrugs though. "I kinda like it. It's catchy."

They reach the front of the school too soon and their conversation starts short. For the second time that day Peyton turns to her friend. "Let's show them what they were missing out on, Brooke Davis."

"Peyton, maybe this isn't the best idea," Brooke pulls back last minute. "They don't like me and I don't know. I just – I'm okay with being a loser!"

"We both know you're not, Brooke. Now, c'mon. They're gonna love you, I promise."

For some reason, when Peyton said it that actually sounded believable.

"This is your year, Brooke," she murmurs walking side-by-side on the way in. "You'll own this school."

:::

"Hey, Brooke, c'mere for a second!" Peyton calls across the gym.

Brooke ditches her new friends for the one who gave her a chance almost nine months ago. "'Sup, Sawyer?"

"I need your help. I'm like, this close to landing this move but I need someone to spot me and let's face it," she leans in, "it's either you or those idiots, and as much as I don't like you..."

"Right, right," Brooke nods through slitted eyes. She spanks her ass and laughs. "Let's see what you got, P."

"I'm going for a front flip."

"Woah, look at you go."

"Hey, not all of us used to be gymnasts."

Brooke stands beside her crouching down. "Alright, go."

"You're gonna catch me right?"

"Well, I can't exactly let you break anything. Your dad would kill me."

She takes a deep breath then goes for the flip, landing it perfectly.

"Did you see that?"

"You did it, P. Sawyer!" Brooke cheers with her. "You're almost as good as me now!"

"That day will never come," she rolls her eyes. "Ready to leave?"

"Yeah, I think that's a great place to stop," she agrees, walking out. They head to the locker rooms together, leaving everyone else to keep going. It's just open gym.

"So, what are our plans for tonight anyway?" Peyton asks as they step into the locker room.

"I dunno," Brooke says, "What do you wanna do?"

"You don't wanna stay in tonight by any chance, do you? We can chill at my place? Watch movies, order pizza, gossip."

Brooke smiles. "Sounds perfect to me. Just like old times, right?"

"Yeah," Peyton agrees.

"And I'm assuming by movies you mean more like _My Sister's Keeper _or _The Notebook _and not _The Hangover_?"

"Who watches funny movies anymore?"

"I'll go to therapy with you if that convinces you-"

"_Funny,_" Peyton sneers.

Brooke's phone goes off again but she doesn't even glance it. "Jeez. How popular did I make you?"

"It's probably Nathan. He's asking about you."

"Really?"

"Yep. Says you're cute. Told me not to tell you, but let's face it, it's like, my duty as your best friend to."

"It is!" Peyton agrees. They walk out and start heading home. Peyton's dad is out of town and they both know Brooke's parents aren't the best at the whole concept of picking up. "Man, I love a good advanced notice. Now I'll know if he ever likes me!"

"Hey, thanks for introducing me to everyone. And, you know, getting them all to like me. It's nice being included."

"Yeah, seeing you stand up for everything is pretty entertaining too," Peyton shivers. "Bitch Brooke, oh, wouldn't wanna mess with her."

"People like you suck," she mutters under her breath.

"Gonna tear down my self esteem?"

"Look, I was bullied by the best," Brooke's voice is light-hearted but the topic isn't easy for either of them to think about. "I know what it feels like, and everyone should just leave everyone alone. I mean, it's a different situation now but I still remember what it felt like to dread going to school."

"You're a good person," Peyton says. "That's gonna bite you in the ass one day."

"No, what's gonna bite you in the ass is being too bitchy when you first meet people. You're gonna miss out on some great people."

"And people say you're stupid."

Brooke halts and spins around. "And who the hell is saying this?"

"Your D in math," Peyton offers meekly. "You sit right next to Haley! What's stopping you?"

"I don't need Haley to pass math," she crosses her arms. "I can do it without cheating."

"I know that you _can_, but if you have the resources..."

"No," Brooke says sternly. "I'm not using Haley."

"It's not using Haley, it's called getting a good grade in math."

"It's called whatever. We're just in middle school. And it's not like my parents care about grades anyway."

"Are you ready for that? High school?"

Brooke stands up straight as says proudly, "Of course. I'm Brooke Davis, ready for anything."

"Well, I'm glad," Peyton laughs. "One of us should be."


	4. Chapter 4

**Freshman Year**

"Hey, Brooke, crazy party after the game tonight! You in?" A junior boy calls out.

Peyton sat on the sidelines this time, watching her best friend smile and shrug mysteriously. For a freshman, Brooke was three things. Popular, hot, and invited to every party. A party was not a party without Brooke Davis. Somehow, she'd really made a name for herself. "We'll see. Maybe."

That was her yes voice. Peyton had quickly learned to tell the difference come the start of the year. A maybe was clearly a no, but a we'll see was a definite yes. Add in a wink and they were guaranteed for sex.

"Babe," Nathan comes, sitting down. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she grins, pecking his lips. Her wish had come true. She was Nathan Scott's girl. "Ready for your game, Mr. Varsity?"

"Hell yes. Ready to wave your sexy ass?" he winks.

Peyton laughs, shoving him away. "I'm ready to kick some Hornet ass, how does that sound?"

"Pretty damn good," he agrees, going in for another long kiss.

Brooke's voice is the next thing you hear. It's playful and joking and full of Brooke's overall personality of keeping things fun. "PDA, how middle school."

Nathan pulls away and glares at her. "Do you have to be so obnoxious?"

Instinct tells Peyton to stand up for her best friend, but she always forgets how much Brooke has grown. She does that for herself now. And Peyton will be the first to admit that anyone who dared to mess with Brooke had balls, but standing up to Nathan took a hell of a lot more than that.

"Excuse me?" Brooke quickly hisses.

"We were having a moment," he says harshly.

"You mean making out?" she raises her eyebrows. Then, she turns to Peyton. Sarcasm drips from her know-it-all voice. She's told you a million and one times to break up with him. "He's a real catch, P. Sawyer."

"Brooke-"

She's already walking away, though. Peyton sighs, turning to Nathan who leans back in to kiss her. She pushes him away giving him a pissed off look. "What the hell? That's my best friend."

"She never leaves us alone!" Nathan defends.

"It was a joke!"

"I was kissing you!"

Peyton rolls her eyes, getting up and going to be with her friend. Everyday she finds herself questioning why Nathan Scott is so great anyway.

"Peyton!" he calls. "Seriously?"

She lifts up her finger, roaming the halls. If he isn't going to apologize she will on his behalf. Halfway to her locker she hears Brooke's voice and internally cringes at the topic.

"I'll be there, okay," she hears the voice she's grown to know too well say. "Trust me, we'll have fun, James."

"Oh, yes we will," he says with a chuckle.

Peyton rolls her eyes. It's times like these when she really regrets making her popular. Little by little she's changing, and maybe it's just a phase, but Peyton really does miss the old Brooke sometimes. The one who wasn't so popular or slutty. "Brooke!"

"That's my cue, boys," she winks, turning around. She walks to you with a smile still on her face. "They want me."

"Good to know," she remarks. "Hey, sorry about that. I don't know why he's such an ass-"

"I didn't need you to walk away," Brooke tells her. "I mean, I'm not complaining because he _is _an ass, but don't do it on my account."

"It's not. It's on mine," she sighs. "God, why are all boys such dicks?"

"I dunno, but I'm getting laid tonight," Brooke sings, strutting forward in the hall making Peyton struggle just to catch up.

"You are a real slut, B. Davis."

She turns around and that bright smile is still on her face, the smile that makes Peyton wonder what makes her so upset in the first place. "But, I'm the head bitch in charge."

"That you are," Peyton laughs. "That one thing, you are."

:::

"Brooke," James comes up winking. "Saturday was fun."

"That it was," she smiles, leaning in a little closer. "Let me know if you want a round two."

His breath catches and it's no secret to Peyton that this is the reason why she acts this way. She gets a high from people adoring her, because no one ever has before.

"In the hot tub?" he asks.

Brooke shrugs and grins a little. "I'll see if I can convince Daddy to set it up."

He nods, beginning to walk away. "Let me know. You have my number."

"I do," Brooke waves him away, holding back her laughter until he turns the corner. "This is great."

"What is he talking about?" you ask her. "_Daddy_ is going to set up your hot tub?"

She shrugs. "No one wants to hear a sad story from a fuck buddy."

"Disregarding that," Peyton rolls her eyes, "you don't _have _a hottub."

"Well, I did last night," she laughs nervously.

"Where were you?"

"I don't know their names," she frowns. "It was such a nice house though! Who knew my neighbors were so rich."

"Brooke!" Peyton screeches. "You can't break into someones else's house!"

"No, _you_ can't break into someone else's house," she counters. "Clearly, I can."

The blonde crosses her arms. "It's morally wrong."

"Well, for something so 'wrong' it sure is fun," she giggles.

"Brooke," Peyton says firmly.

"_What_?"

"Promise me you won't do it again."

"Peyton," Brooke says her name this time, giving her a look of disbelief.

Chicken legs holds her ground. "Promise."

And in the end, this is why their best friends. They're complete opposite, but they keep each other sane. Peyton keeps Brooke out of too much trouble while Brooke tests Peyton's boundaries. It drives the other crazy, but they do a pretty good job at watching out for each other.

"Brooke?" she repeats.

"It's just a little fun-"

"Brooke!" she screams. "It won't be fun when you get caught and you mother – or worse father has to come bail you out."

The brunette fumbles, looking around before finally rolling her eyes. "Whatever."

"Say you promise, B. Davis," Peyton sings as she starts walking away.

"Promise," she grunts, but not without softly murmuring, "buzzkill" after.

"I heard that."

"Good," Brooke laughs. "So, what was your depressed soul up to this weekend while I was being a felon?"

She laughs at that and shakes her head, not quite knowing how this change had happened in the past year. Sometimes, Peyton wonders if it would be her in Brooke's place if they hadn't became friends.

"I laid around. I think Nathan slept with someone else, but it's whatever."

Brooke stops walking, holding out her arm to stop her best friend too. She knows well enough by now that if she didn't stop her, Peyton would keep walking like nothing is wrong. "That's not okay and we both it."

"What am I supposed to do? Break up with him?" she throws her hands up in the air. "He loves me!"

Brooke frowns, breaking the news to her, "That's not love. You have to at least admit that."

She looks at the ground and Brooke nudges her a bit. She understands what she's thinking, because there are days she thinks it too. She thinks she isn't good enough for true, real love and that she doesn't deserve it, but she does.

"You have to break up with him, P. Sawyer," she says heartbroken. She hates seeing her friend this hurt. "Trust me, once you're over this there will be people lining up for you."

"Yeah," she scoffs.

"It's true," Brooke protests.

She looks down and runs a hand through her hair. "I know you don't get it, but I love him. I really do."

They both know it's a lie, but that makes it perfectly clear that Peyton isn't ready, so Brooke takes a step back, respecting that.

"Well, I'll be here, Peyt."

She lets out that rare, genuine smile and the curls fall out of her face. "I know you will. And when you realize that you don't need to be so slutty to get a guys attention, I'll be here for you too."

"Good to know," she rolls her eyes. "Don't hold your breath on that, though."

"Why?"

"Because, being good at sex is my thing. It's what makes me lovable," she puts on a brilliant smile, but it doesn't take a genius to know she isn't as proud as she's making herself out to be.

"Don't sell yourself short, Brooke. Guys will love you because you're you."

"No. Guys love _you _because you're you," Brooke counters down.

Peyton repositions herself.

"Guys love me because I'm hot, easy, and good at it," she shrugs. She just shrugs like it isn't a big deal, but it is. To both of them, it's a big deal.

"That's not true," she says strongly.

Brooke laughs a little and starts walking again. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

"What?"

"Nothing," she shakes her head. "Forget about it, okay?"

"No, not okay," Peyton grabs her bicep to keep her from going anywhere. "What did you mean by that?"

She shakes her head and refuses to answer, but deep down, Peyton already knows.

"I'm not as great as you always think I am," she sighs. "Honestly, you're the only one who really knows the real me, and you're probably the only person who will ever really accept all of it."

"That's not true," she mutters. "You can yell out a window and they'll come running for you... Brooke, look at me," she rolls her eyes. "Maybe stop putting me on a pedestal and gain some confidence, okay? You aren't who you used to be anymore. You aren't that weird girl, guys crawl around you."

"For sex."

"Because you don't put yourself out there for anything more," she argues. "You lowered your expectations of yourself, so everyone else did too."

She crosses her arms over her chest insecurely, mainly because she knows Peyton is absolutely right.

"Let's just drop it, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees.

But that jealousy never died down.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sophomore Year**

"Brooke... Have you been eating?" her best friend asks uncertainly. She rests a hand on her upper arm as if to prove something.

"Peyton, I am a cheerleader not stupid. Of course," Brooke laughs.

The blonde's face falls as she recognizes what that laugh belongs to. She uses it when she talks about how it's okay that she's bad at math, it's okay her parents don't care, and it's okay Peyton won't break up with Nathan. That laugh has always gone with the lies.

"Brooke," she says softly.

"Look, there's no problem," she promises. "Now I have to get to class. See you at practice, right?"

"Of course," she forces a laugh.

Brooke goes in for their normal hug and Peyton wants to cry. "Eat something, B."

"Don't worry about me."

She won't say anything but she keeps glancing at the brunette. She wants to know what she's expected to say or do in a time like this but she just doesn't know. She doesn't know the magic words this time, all she knows is that she's right.

"Stop looking at me like that," Brooke finally says the first words of the day.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm broken!" she snaps. "I'm fine."

"You haven't eaten, Brooke!"

"I am, Peyton! I've just had really big breakfasts lately," she says.

"Made by who? The mother that never wakes up with you or the father who's always on a business trip?"

Brooke crosses her arms and stops walking where they're supposed to split. "Low blow, Peyton."

"Fine, you know what, then let's just go. It's ice-cream Friday, let's go to the cafe just like old times," she declares.

"No, because I have nothing to prove to you!" she screams.

Peyton's face scrunches as Brooke tries to slip away. At the last minute she grabs her shoulders spinning her around. "Listen, I want to hit you so badly right now, but I'm not going to. I'm going to stand here and say that I know you're lying. You're my best friend, Brooke, and you out of anyone don't need to lose any weight. You're skinny and beautiful and perfect and," she takes a deep breath in and wipes away her tears. "Why are you doing this, Brooke?"

They have a staring contest for a long time and both their eyes are tear-filled.

"Brooke," she tries again.

This time, Brooke doesn't let her finish. If she does she'll cry. "I want your chicken legs, P. Sawyer."

"Oh, honey, trust me, nobody wants these legs," she laughs. This time, her friend isn't laughing with her. "You're flirting with a dangerous path. And, I don't want to see that happen to you. You are important and honestly, looks don't matter. I mean, look at me, I wear t-shirts everyday and I'm dating the most popular guy in school-"

"Peyton-"

"No, let me finish," she says. "You're the only person I can really count on. And I'm morbid now? See me after you're gone. I am not ready to lose you because I let you go down a self-destructive path. I've read things – scary things. It's early enough for you to turn back, but if you turn anorexic I swear to god, I'll kill you myself."

Brooke looks down. Somehow, Peyton always speaks to her like no one else can. "I'm sorry, Peyton."

"You're gorgeous, best friend," she smiles, lightening up the mood. "Kinda shallow, but I'll deal."

"But I have to be skinny."

"You are, Brooke. I swear to you you are. We wouldn't be friends if you weren't pretty and thin."

"Thanks," she laughs. She shakes her head, because she realizes she has so much more to thank Peyton for, more than she can imagine. "Thanks for catching me."

Peyton's big grin comes on, the one she wears when she's really proud of herself, and she nods down the street. "Bet you're hungry. Ice-cream Friday?"

"Hell yeah," Brooke laughs, almost charging there. "I'm starving. Give me three scoops and some sprinkles of common sense."

"Yeah, luckily I have enough of that for the both of us, huh?"

"_Funny_," she pats her on the back. "What would I do without you?"

"I dunno, but the idea worries me," she shakes her head. "Luckily I'll always save you."

Brooke finds those words so endearing. She can't help but wonder how she ever thought Peyton was anything less than kind, because she's the most compassionate woman she has ever met in her life. And despite how most kids at Tree Hill High would say the opposite, Brooke got really lucky to be her best friend.

:::

"Hey."

Peyton turns around and smiles somewhat uncomfortably, forcing out a grin. "Hi?"

Brooke stands beside her trying to hide a laugh. Peyton was beyond awkward with boys – mostly because Nathan was so damn over protective – but she found it cute that this guy was giving it a shot.

"I'm Marvin," he smiles a puppy dog cute sort of smile. "My friend over there, his name is Lucas. He likes you."

"Isn't that your boyfriends brother or something?" Brooke speaks up.

Peyton is the first to quickly fix that error. "Half brother. They hate each other."

"Great, so you know him," Marvin once again says cheerily.

"Yeah, uh," Peyton stops looking at him and focuses all of her attention on the boy in front of her. "Tell him that he should grow a pair and talk to me himself. And that if he gets within a five foot radius my boyfriend will beat his ass."

Suddenly, Marvin frowns, walking away. Her best friend laughs, shaking her head. "C'mon, Peyt. Give the poor kid a chance."

"You're just saying that because he's not Nathan."

"Who's not Nathan?" her boyfriend asks from behind, smirking a little in his arrogance.

Peyton rolls her eyes. "Your creep of a brother."

Right there, is why Brooke doesn't like them together. He brings out the worst in her. The side that Brooke always tries to forget is there in the first place. She's meaner and degrades people to keep her relationship going strong. It's not love. It isn't even like.

"That's my cue to go," she laughs a little. "See you later, P. Sawyer."

"Practice today, right?"

She nods, hastily going away and Nathan frowns. "Why doesn't she like me?"

"Because you're an ass," Peyton hums. "You're mean."

"But it's okay, 'cause the sex is great, right?" he kisses her neck and she laughs, nodding. "Speaking of sex, my parents are out tonight. Do you want to...?"

"I thought you had to get your math grade up," she smiles.

"I'll find a tutor next year, too late now," he chuckles. "Besides, how can I think about math when I could be having sex with you?"

She kisses his lips and is still smiling when she pulls away, convinced that if Brooke saw this side of him she would change her mind. "Good answer. Be there at eight?"

"If you're late we'll have to get kinky," he laughs. "See ya, babe."

She winks, walking away and to class. "See ya."


	6. Chapter 6

**Junior Year**

"So," Brooke gives the biggest smile, "how does Nathan Scott feel about his unknown brother replacing him as the It boy?"

"Lucas is not replacing Nathan," she rolls her eyes. "Trust me, he's too annoying. I called a tow truck because the Comet broke down yesterday-"

"That's your ancient car, right?"

"_Yes_," she says pointedly. "Anyway, it broke down so apparently it's his uncle's company or something and in the midst of towing my car he tried to get into a deep conversation."

"Tried or succeeded?" Brooke challenges.

Goldilocks ignores her, shutting her locker and shaking her head. "There's no way he'll make it up the food chain."

"Hm, you really hate this guy," she notes. "What else happened in the midst of towing your car?"

"Nothing I just – he's so not the popular type. We have nothing to worry about."

"Oh, I wasn't worrying," Brooke assures, winking as they pass the Devil himself.

Peyton scowls. "Don't do that. It encourages him."

"Maybe he needs to be encouraged," she shrugs. They walk into math and Brooke points at a girl in the back corner with reddish brown hair. "That's her, right? Nathan's new tutor?"

"Yeah, Haley," she agrees. "Poor girl doesn't know what she's getting herself into."

"I feel bad for her," Brooke states bluntly. "I bet she's nice, too."

"Probably," she shrugs. "Oh, well. Not my problem."

"Don't do that," Brooke orders.

"Do what?"

"Be how you are when Nathan is around," she answers firmly. "I don't like you when you're with him. You're mean and careless."

"I don't like the slutty version of you, but I deal."

"Have I ever gotten kinky with you?"

Peyton's eyes widen at her forwardness and they both laugh, everyone else in the room staring and wondering what they're laughing about. Everyone always wants to know what the popular girls are laughing about.

"I was just saying you better watch out," Brooke shrugs. "Tutor girl is fresh meat for him, and we all know how Nathan loves a little challenge."

"Not gonna happen." The bell rings and they both quickly glance back at Haley before Peyton finally turns around again. "It's not gonna happen."

:::

"Let's get this straight," Peyton walks up to Lucas' locker with her fake kind voice. From a few feet in the distance Brooke grimaces. She has heard that voice before and it is definitely not the version of Peyton that's her favorite. "I don't know you. You don't know me. We're keeping it that way, 'kay?"

"Hey, girl," Brooke goes over with her smile. She sends the blonde a subtle look and Peyton sends one straight back. "What's up?"

"Let's go," she rolls her eyes, storming away.

Brooke's eyes widens as she laughs at the boy's baffled face in front of her. She points to him and giggles a little, "She likes you."

"Wha-"

But she was already walking away, catching up with her best friend.

"Let me guess," Peyton says once they're walking side by side again. "You pulled the Brooke on him?"

"Someone had to."

"Sometimes I hate myself for turning you into such a whore," She admits. It's disguised by a joking tone, but deep down, they both know that there's some honesty in those words. "But anyways, what'd he do?"

She frowns. "He didn't have sex with me."

"Oh," Peyton's a little thrown back by that. She'd never heard of anyone not wanting sex with Brooke, and by the look on her best friends face, neither had she. "So what did he do?"

"Drove me home, waited at the door for me to get in safe-"

"Maybe he's be gay!"

"I think he's just nice," Brooke shrugs. "I know you don't want to believe it, but I think that's the case, Chicken Legs. Why don't you like him so much anyway?"

Peyton's anger flares and Brooke is amused. One thing she's thankful for is that it's not her turn to feel the heat anymore. It was odd seeing Peyton with that glint of fiery in her eyes again and not having it be directed at her.

"He's such an asshole!" she bursts. "He's always in my business and never knows when to shut up and-"

"Said he liked your sketches and that they meant something to him and submitted them to a magazine," Brooke trails off.

"That's not fair," Peyton crosses her arms and stares at her best friend. "He's an ass, Brooke. Trust me."

"And that may be true, but honey, you're dating _Nathan_," she extends her arm, rubbing Peyton's comfortingly. "Anyone is a step up from him."

"He's not _that _bad."

"Have you not seen the way he treats you?" Brooke gawks. "I say this because I love you – he is the biggest douche to walk the earth and you deserve about twenty trillion times better."

"B..."

"All he does is hurt you," Brooke reminds her. "I mean, if it's really worth it fine, but are you in love with Nathan, or the idea of having a two-years-and-counting we-fight-like-hell relationship?"

Peyton purses her lips in silence and Brooke knows that means she's right.

"I don't want to hurt you," she continues, "but he's gonna end up like Dan and everyone knows it. And I would hate to see you be the Karen in Nate's story."

"Brooke Davis, you always know just what to say."

"It's a gift," she shrugs, continuing her walk down the hallway. "Oh, and P. Sawyer? Don't forget, you hated me more than Lucas and look at us now."

"You're a slut and I'm the loser!" Peyton claps her hands together. "Yay for role reversals, huh?"

"Not what I meant," she giggles, pulling down her tank a little bit more. "But if they're looking..."

:::

"Has anyone ever told you that it's two steps forward eight hundred steps back with that best friend of yours?" Lucas comes up to her as she gets ready to start stretching for practice.

Brooke looks up and smiles at him. "Occasionally."

"She's so frustrating," he groans, almost whining. "How do you make it look so easy with her?"

"Trust me," she stands up. "That girl is definitely not easy. What'd she do this time? I thought you guys were getting along."

"Apparently not, because apparently I'm a self-centered asshole who has no appreciation," he rants. "How can you possibly keep her happy?"

"You have to learn the ropes," Brooke shrugs. She's never found Peyton that hard to understand. She has a real heart if you prove you won't leave. "Stop messing with her head, okay? Don't push her. She'll come to you."

"Yeah, right," he scoffs.

She puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head. "How many times have I mislead you in the past?"

"The first time I met you you were in the back of my car naked only for me to find out that you don't actually like me," he reminds her. "You're the most misleading person I know."

"No, I just have my own puzzle," she winks. "Now, you keep trying. She likes you. I can tell."

"How can you possibly tell? That girl has a hard head, Brooke, and she's determined to hate me," Lucas sighs.

"So?" Brooke challenges. "She hated me too at first but here I am, all this time later. She beat me up seven times before she gave me a chance and every time I let her throw the punch." With everyone else she tries to bury it, but this kid could use a pep talk. Besides, it's time for Brooke to start figuring out what she thinks of their past. A part of her is proud for letting Peyton get her way. Another part always wonders why she never once stood up for herself. Her life was hell before they got along.

"She didn't like _you_?" he double checks. "Are you sure? Because you're like, her most prized possession."

"Seven black eyes," Brooke repeated. "I know she can be a real asshole, but it's only because she's been through a lot. But if you make it through the fight, I promise she's worth it."

The blonde walks out of the locker rooms and Brooke grimaces at the look she receives. "I'd better go before she makes that eight black eyes."

"Yeah," Lucas laughs. "Thanks, Brooke. You're a nice girl with your clothes on."

"No problem," she nods, walking away. Then, she turns back with a playful smile. "And don't think that wasn't a signature move. We call it Brooke-ing here."

Peyton is glaring at her as she sits down beside her, beginning the stretches again. "You were talking to him because?"

"Damn, does he love you."

"He's a freak, Brooke. And Nathan hates him."

"If you never gave me a chance, you could be saying that about me right now," she reminds her. "He seems like a good guy. And, I'm not saying you should date him, but is it really necessary to be so hostile?"

"That's your problem!" Peyton tells her. "You're too nice and give everyone too many chances. You need to stop doing that."

"I'll stop if you start," she offers.

She sighs. "What if Nate gets mad?"

"Last time I checked, Nathan moved on to Tutor Girl."

"Still," she huffs, not wanting to be left without an excuse. She wasn't ready to open up just yet. She has Brooke and that's all she needs.

"What if Lucas is a really nice guy?" Brooke asks again.

They both stare him down together and before long Brooke breaks away calling the team together. As they all huddle together she turns and says just loud enough for the girl next to her to hear, "I know you'll do the right thing, Peyt."

And once again, the blonde-haired girl knows she'll go against her will to keep from disappointing that little brunette.

"It's times like these when I really wish we weren't friends," she murmurs.

"Oh, you love me and you know it."

"That I do," she gives in. "I mean, I am still here, arent I?"

"Don't do cheer for me, Peyton. You can leave any time. You know that," she smirks a little. "Besides, we wouldn't want you to have another meltdown about how pointless this all is, would we?"

"Yeah, but you almost make this fun," she says earnestly. "I mean, you're not hard on the eyes."

"You wouldn't believe how many times I've heard that before," she grins in the mysterious Brooke Davis way of grinning. "By the way, Scott is checkin' you out... And I don't mean Nathan."

:::

"Hey, Scott!" Brooke yells across the court.

The brothers turn around simultaneously and she waves the jackass away, beckoning the new one over. He jogs across the gym, standing across from her.

"Meet me after practice at your mom's cafe, alright?"

"I'm not having sex with you."

Brooke laughs, shaking her head. "Missed your chance, kid. I've already moved on."

"Why am I meeting you?"

"Thought you'd be interested in blondie," she gloats her status powerfully. "Only one person knows her life story and that's me, so if you wanna reach her heart..."

"And why would you help me?" he asks.

"Something about me and Peyton... We love being right. And it's my turn to prove her wrong. But that involves getting her to admit that she likes you – which she does – and in order to do that I'm speeding up the process a bit."

"Wow, you're so selfless," he says with a hint of sarcasm. "I'll be there. Five 'o clock."

"Great," she grins, walking away and back through the locker rooms.

"See that look?" she hears. "That's a very bad look. It means she's about to meddle."

Brooke glares at Peyton and crosses her arms. "Not meddling if they want you involved."

"If it has to do with me I'm kicking your ass," she warns with a playful push.

Everyone silently watches them out of the corner of their eyes wishing they could have a friendship like that. In the end, one in a million do. Brooke and Peyton were just the two that hit the jackpot.

"Been there," Brooke sings, "done that. You're gonna have to be much scarier."

"Well, you certainly don't. I'm terrified to know what you're up to and before you ask, no I will not help."

"Ridin' this one solo, it's all good," she holds her head up proud. "I didn't ask for your help."

"Brooke, I'm serious-"

"_Solo,_" she repeats with a smile. She rubs her best-friends shoulder and laughs at the apprehensive glance she's giving. "You'll thank me one day, Chicken Legs. You'll see."

And with that, she turns around and walks out of the room. Peyton's eyes follow her all the way to the exit and when she turns the corners her teammate laughs besides her. "You're really gonna let her get involved?"

"What harm can she do?"

"I mean, no offense, Peyt, but it's Brooke. She's probably gonna screw him by the end of the night."

Her head snaps over, but before she has a chance to yell her eyes soften. She takes a deep breath and tries to control herself, tries to remind herself that Brooke built up that reputation for herself. "She's my best friend."

"It's still Brooke Davis," the other girl points out.

"And you clearly don't know her," she says, her eyes darkening and her normal calm attitude quickly fading. There's one person she'd lose her cool for and that's Brooke. "If you did you'd know how completely wrong that statement is. She's a slut, not a two-faced bitch."

:::

"So," Brooke walks into the cafe, "let's get down to business. Her favorite color is red - or black, depending on her mood. Cheerleading? So not her thing. But it ties back to me and her mother so she does it anyway. Adopted. Doesn't know her real parents and her adopted mom died so it's just her and her dad. Your brother was a complete ass to her. She loves music, but has horrible taste. She draws a lot, and they're really good too, but she'd never let anyone see them, which is partially why she hates you so much since you submitted them. When she grows up she doesn't know what she wants to be other than the fact it must somehow tie to music. Red room. She's bad at letting people down. And saying no. And she pulls off a really annoying drunk girl – trust me. And I'm her best friend, and I guarantee if you try to ruin that one of us will kick your ass. Anything else you need to know?"

Luke stares at her blankly before chuckling. "I need notes on that."

"I'll try to type those up for you," she laughs.

"I dunno," he groans. "You really think I have a chance with her?"

"I think just by you asking that you have a better chance than any of her past boyfriends have had."

He laughs, but Brooke isn't kidding. She was tired of all these boys walking all over Peyton. What's worse is watching Peyton let them. After Nathan, she deserves someone who will treat her like a fucking princess.

"Well, you sure have faith then. She hates me, you do know that right? Her first words were all, first of all, you don't know me. Second of all, you don't me," he imitates her attitude problem perfectly.

Brooke's lips curve into a huge smile and she laughs. "Luke, the only one she's ever used that line on is me. And we're best friends now. She's trying to throw you off."

"Well, it's working," he chuckles. He looks up at the girl in front of him. "You're different when you're around her."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not..."

"Slutty?" she grins, leaning in closer.

He makes sure he isn't hurting her feelings or crossing boundaries before agreeing. "Yeah."

"Peyton is different," she shrugs. "She's known me so long and before I began liking guys that there's no point in pretending around her. I'm just who I've always been."

"And who is that?"

"The nerdy middle schooler. And she's the stuck up one, of course."

"Of course," he agrees with a smile. "Were you really nerdy?"

"Oh, Nerd Captain right here."

He looks her up and down and shakes his head. "One hell of a transformation."

"Maybe it is," she gives that cheeky grin. "But, then again, you can't really talk."

"Well, my reason is basketball. What's your excuse?"

"P. Sawyer," she brings up the blonde again. Lucas is amazed. Out of all the people in the world he wouldn't have expected the two most popular – and formerly believed shallowest – girls in the school to be the two most loyal. "Her bite isn't as mean as she looks."

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Put in a good word for me, will you?"

"I would," she starts. "But you don't need one."

:::

"So, you're really not into him, huh?" Brooke finally gives in about a month later.

"No," she laughs. "I'm really not."

She nods, playing with her fingers before finally asking the question that had been making her anxious all day. "So, you wouldn't mind if I maybe gave him a chance?"

Peyton's head shoots up and there's such a mix of emotions on her face. "What? Brooke, why?"

"I mean, if you like him-"

"No, it's not that, he's just – he's an ass. And you can do better, B."

"With all due respect, after sitting back and watching you with Nathan, I don't think you have much room to criticize my taste," she laughs. "If you have feelings for him, just say no, but... I think I like him."

"Really?" she squints.

She bites her lip and Peyton sighs.

"Fine. But if he hurts you I'm kicking his ass," she warns. "And I still don't know what you see in him."

"That's okay, you don't have to. I know," she says warmly.

She nods slowly, and opens her mouth, then closes it, opens it again. "He asked you out, then?"

The brunette nods. "He did."

"And you said yes?"

"No, not yet. I wanted to be sure you're okay with it first," she rubs her arm.

"By all means," Peyton laughs. "Don't hold back on my account. I wouldn't dare date... _that_."

Brooke laughs, holding out her fist. "Best friends?"

"Forever," she bumps the fist.

"But you're sure that you don't have feelings for him? Because you two would be pretty cute together," she grins boldly.

"Positive," Peyton emphasizes. "But if that changes I'll be sure to let you know."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Goldilocks."


End file.
